


Highest Bidder

by FriendofOnline



Category: Half-Life
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendofOnline/pseuds/FriendofOnline
Summary: Eleven years after the 7 Hour War and the Combine are the penultimate rulers of Earth, herding humanity like sheep and ruling nearly without resistance...nearly. Away from Eastern Europe, City 23 rests in the remains of Mexico City. In it, Supervisor Fairweather oversees her city, with a cloud of punishment hanging over her every day for her failings in quelling the Militaristic Resistance Movement, remains of Northern American special forces like Force Recon, HECU, and Navy Seals.She's desperate and with a personal inspection by Wallace Breen himself coming up, she fears retribution.But Breen does not come bearing the Sword and Scale, he comes with opportunity.
Kudos: 4





	Highest Bidder

**Author's Note:**

> My first Fanfiction.

Daniela Fairweather stares into the mirror, and the Supervisor stares back. She blinks, once, then twice, and wipes a strand of tire black hair behind her ear. She checks the motion as she notices the glint of silver in said strand, and furrows her clipped eyebrows in thought, sighing, before continuing the motion. It was remarkable she hadn't started graying earlier, not because of her age, but her duties.

Another cog in the machine to exterminate humanity.

Final preparations were in order, inspecting any blemishes to her olive-toned skin, making sure she applied just the right amount of make-up to appear proper and not a whore, tying her hair into a bob, like clockwork. The bathroom she was in was large, remarkably so, as big as her old apartments used to be. In times past she would have deeply enjoyed the privilege. Luxuries like that didn't matter much. Strangely, there were no windows, but that was of her own request. Best to hide the dark spartan metals of Combine Architecture. 

She could only run for so long. 

A knock on the door disturbed her, and she sighed, bracing herself...:"Mooooommmm!" 

"Hurry up! We're gonna be late to meet Uncle Breen!"

Steeling herself, hiding the shudder that ran through her at the thought, she responded as casually as she could, motherly skill masking the fear she held, "Okay dear, make sure you're dressed in your church clothes!"

"I already am!"

...

She couldn't delay any longer could she? She allowed the medicine cabinet to slam shut, giving her a small bit of relief at the clashing of metal, before steeling herself once more. She was wearing business clothes, a simple suit jacket colored a dark maroon, with a white button-up shirt. Maroon suit pants clung to her hips as she walked, stepping through the door to meet the bright, ever expressive eyes of her daughter, Mary. Blue stared back, hair more dirty blonde, falling in messy curls around her head as she hopped in place with excitement. A white floral dress swept up in the artificial breeze of their well-kept apartment. 

Another attempt to hide the outside structure, with no windows to speak of. 

Good thing she wasn't claustrophobic. 

"My my, aren't you a pretty girl?" The Supervisor teased, leaning down to run a hand through Mary's hair, who squeaked and nodded, twirling: "Uh-huh!" She would have said more, but she sprinted over to the front door, gesturing wildly: "We're gonna be late come on!"

Daniela knew they wouldn't be. Breen was always on time, and as he said in his video message to her, "I'll be there at 7:45 sharp. No need to...clean up, I'll only be there for a short while."

Regardless she shook her head, chuckling at her daughter's shenanigans, "Alright alright, come on." She opened the door...and was met with steely blue metal, the interior of the Citadel become clear. On either side of the door, white-masked Combine Elite stood motionless, AR2's held firmly in their grips. As per usual Daniela tried not to look at them, putting her mind to other matters, but Mary was anything but Daniela. 

"Hi Masky, hi Red Eye!"

Time and time again, Supervisor 23 would marvel at the scene she would come to expect every time Mary came into contact with some of the inhabitants of the Citadel. She shouldn't smile, she really shouldn't, it was unbecoming, but just the same she smirked when her brain fully clicked into place.

The Elite soldiers of the Transhuman Branch were, as expected, Elite. hyper-intelligent, heavily modified, and vigorously trained in every way to allow them to become what was needed for the Combine. She had seen camera footage of an Elite Team ruthlessly mowing through Resistance Groups with ease. She had seen one snap the neck of an anti-citizen and use the body as a human shield. She had seen them perform acts of brutality that would make the Nazi's blanch...

Yet, all of that seems so unlikely with Mary looping her small arms around the belt of the Elite soldier she named Masky. 

Daniela could practically feel the discomfort radiating from them as they, like a robot, released a hand from the AR2 to pat Mary's head. Stiffly. If Mary ever noticed the discomfort she never questioned it, and instead happily skipped over the 'Red Eye' and hugged the transhuman. Cue a stiff pat, and she happily backed up, smiling: "We're gonna go see Uncle Breen, we'll be right back! Okay?"

Before the Elites were tortured any further, Daniela gently placed a hand on Mary's shoulder, "Come on honey, we're gonna be late."

It had the intended effect, and Mary gave a solemn nod, "We have to hurry!" Before she bounded off down the spartan hallway, Daniela walking at a more sedate pace. Despite Mary's speed, Daniela caught up with her before long, since the young girl often stopped to babble or hug any combine soldier who she found on the way. By the time they reached the glass elevator, they made it together, and Daniela pressed the button green button, and let herself grasp the few feet of handrails on the elevator which overlooked an almost bottomless pit. 

Damn Combine and their OSHA standards, or lack thereof. As the elevator descended, she sighed, for once pondering the issue at hand, Mary safely distracted by the only other occupant, an Elite Soldier doing his best to seem unapproachable. 

In their time of mutual understanding, Daniela liked to think she could somewhat understand Wallace. He enjoyed power and status. He liked wine. He liked to lord over anyone below him, figuratively and literally. Most importantly, he liked to stay in his cozy little City 17. So when he left it, something was off, and when he would only stay for a short time, it often wasn't good. He enjoyed dragging things out, talking, and fraternizing like they weren't the leaders and propagators of a dying race.

When he would cut things short, it was because he didn't want to socialize. He was either here to judge her unworthy for her inabilities, or...that was what irked her. What else could he want? She knew she was treading a fine line with her supervision of City 23 and the surrounding area. So long having been thwarted time and time again by highly skilled rebels. Rumor had it, they were the last remnants of the United States Military, cutting their teeth on The 7 Hour War and growing fangs to nip at her authority. As skilled as the Combine Soldiers were, against this new kind of rebellion? They were performing poorly. Which reflected on her. 

The wonders of leadership. 

The elevator came to a halt, and she stepped off of it, Mary coming along, waving goodbye to the Elite soldier she had christened as "Skully". More bare walls of Combine metal...until finally? They reached Hanger 34, which was occupied. The normal Elite and Regular Combine soldiers, with Dropships resting in stand by mode. All except for one, which seemed ready to fly. In front of the dropship?

None other than Wallace Breen.

With a pulse of fear, she checked her watch. 

7:37. 

He was _early_.

Mary, unknowing of her mother's realization, gave a loud bark of "Uncle Breen!" before scampering over at speeds fast enough to kill a man his age. Before Mary could do a better job than the Resistance ever could, Breen opened his arms, and she bounded into his hip. He had put one foot back in preparation and took the speeding bullet named Mary rather well. Daniela hurried over, an apology weaving through her words, "Dr. Breen I apologize I-I had no idea you would be..."

"It's quite alright Daniela." He says, swarmy and calm as ever, giving Mary a couple of rubs along her back as she hugged Wallace. After a moment Mary pried herself from Wallace's frame, smiling, looking up at the older man. He had slipped into the role as "uncle" rather well, Daniela notes with a pang of jealousy, knowing full well it was without genuine affection. Mary was a tool to keep Daniela complacent, and well within Breen's grasp. 

"I'm sorry to make this short Mary but I have to speak with your Mother. If you would excuse us?"

Mary nodded, skipping off, no doubt to bug the poor, hapless soldiers. 

"...Ms. Fairweather."

Daniela's eyes had drifted from Breen's to see Mary go, already waiting for the squad of Elites to take her away, or a bullet into the side of her skull. Why else would he send Mary away? He hadn't done that before. 

He was early, he wanted to speak to her alone...

"Yes, Dr. Breen?" she tries, experimentally, as she slowly turns to face him, feeling dread pool inside her stomach. 

"...Do you know why I am here? Why I have come from my gilded cage of responsibility, paused in my plans for Bettering Humanity...to come to City 23?" There was a gentle smile on his lips, but there was no humor. At that moment she wished she could manifest the fear and dread she felt into a weapon, and stab the Administrator of Earth. Repeatedly, over and over. Such a possibility was beyond her, so she settled for replying, "I...I believe I do."

A hum from Breen was all she got before he nodded, "...Then you must understand your problem. This...resistance" He spat out the word like it was bile, "Is that problem. You understand this problem. Help me understand this problem, and why it has not been solved."

"D-Dr. Breen I..." "Answer,"

The bastard was taking solace in how she squirmed. 

"...The Resistance is highly...o-organized, well equipped, and skilled...my i-intelligence says they are the remnants of Ex-United States Special Forces..."

"One of those forces wouldn't happen to be HECU...would they?"

"...I-I...Possibly."

"...Daniela, I must apologize. I seemed to misjudge your situation."

There was a long, pregnant pause, as Daniela replayed the words, shocked by the sheer weight of them and the message. 

"When you first informed me of this...resistance, I must admit, I believed you would be capable of handling them. After all, what are a few belligerent humans compared to the might of the Combine? Yet, as the months have gone on, I grew more and more dissatisfied by your efforts. I will admit myself, that I am not a man of the military, just like yourself. My talents lie in administering. Yet, unlike you, I have those under my care that do understand military matters."

"It has come to my attention that you do not."

"...I come today, not with my usual requisitions. to help you quell this Resistance, I will not be offering you more Transhumans, more Synths, more technology. There would be no use, you already have the tools and manpower to crush them easily...yet you do not know how to utilize them. You have a hammer and nail, but no stud to be found."

"...Corporal?" He turns his head to the side, eyes focused on something within the darkness of the Dropship. She leans a bit forward...and sees two vibrant, bright green lenses staring back, nearly obscuring the human face underneath. She takes a surprised step back, as the...thing, no, the person marches forward into the light. A dark green helmet with a gas mask, with some kind of green, bulky vest and a camo shirt and pants, designating him, obviously, as some kind of soldier. 

"Daniela? I offer you a stud finder. Corporal Adrian Shepard, Ex-HECU, and one of the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident."


End file.
